


Don't Say A Word

by Eisengrave, Maelikki



Category: Defense of the Ancients | Dota, Dota 2
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-12-06 21:57:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18225932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eisengrave/pseuds/Eisengrave, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maelikki/pseuds/Maelikki
Summary: He looked up from his desk, which was piled high with reports in various forms. Scrolls, letters, one disturbingly wet looking burlap sack. Running the Tyler Estate was always far more formality than he ever envisioned.[In which Nortrom receives a most unexpected visit at the Tyler Estate, Magina finds magic is even more of an abomination than usual and Kael does as he pleases]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while since I posted anything about them...well, here's a fresh(er) take on my Dotp!

“And so you’re telling me that, with three of them downed and the town guard as your backup, you couldn’t bring them in?” 

Nortrom looked down at the scrawled report. Magina really didn’t have the makings of a calligrapher. His writings looked like the scrawlings of a young child that had never learned to just hold the quill instead of crushing it against the paper.

“And you had to kill the witcher and his coven, or they would have, what, turned a few people into frogs?”

He looked up from his desk, which was piled high with reports in various forms. Scrolls, letters, one disturbingly wet looking burlap sack. Running the Tyler Estate was always far more formality than he ever envisioned.

His newest employee was also one of the most troublesome. The Anti-Mage, he called himself. An illustrious title for a rambunctious young fool.

 

“All magic must be vanquished.” Said Anti-Mage replied, his demeanour full of conviction for his cause. He crossed his arms. “They turned innocent children into paste for their witching sticks. I will not stand for such vile sorcery.”

Tyler might think him a fool, but Magina was the best bet at destroying magic that this building had to offer.

An angry netherdrake, a human who thought himself blessed by the omniscience and some other bumbling buffoons with no real skill against the magics out there.

 

“They cast their fate upon themselves.”

  
His eyes fell on the desk in front of his superior, scanned over reports and then onto the burlap sack. Magina’s voice relaxed a little.

“Mr Tyler, what is that on your desk?”

 

“My name is not Tyler.” Nortrom squeezed the bridge of his nose. He thought that Viper would be the worst employee he’d ever have to deal with. He was very, very far from right. Compared to Magina the Anti-Mage, Viper performed his duties admirably, as if he’d been trained from hatching to do so. Magina was unruly, undisciplined and entirely too emotional about their work. Honestly, if it weren’t for his natural talents, Nortrom would have dismissed him from his service already.

 

“And that is none of your business, but it may be a head of an ogre magi. I’m not inclined to look. You do understand what it is we do here, don’t you, Anti-Mage?”

 

“We control magic users.” Magina answered dutifully. He did not really understand what the problem was here. He had removed mages that were an issue. If he removed them from their place of residence and threw them in the dungeon here or if he removed them from existence entirely, Magina didn’t really see the difference. Except he preferred the latter, having sworn to do so.

“The outer rim of Hazhadal is under control.” He said, crossing his arms, waiting for the Silencer to voice his concerns.

 

“The outer rim is entirely void of mages now. Who do you think will take their place? Approved wizards? Magisters?” Certainly not. Nortrom felt his patience, short and very limited, snap under the duress of dealing with Magina. 

He stood up, leaving the report on his desk as he clasped his hands behind his back and circled Magina in his office.

“We’re not an extermination service, Magina. If you cannot follow the rules set before you, we’ll have to cut out any of the investigations made in your name about the Dead God. This is a deal based on reciprocity. I do not like to be short-handed.”

The threat had the Anti-Mage’s eyes narrow.

“And if I had left them their lives? Thou wouldst have put them in chains and the outer rim would have faced the same fate.”

He knew the dungeon under the estate rather well, that gruesome place in which they kept captured mages, for the Silencer to have his wicked ways of magic drainage with.

Their argument was interrupted by the ward near the door going off, its ring loud and shrill in their ears. Five seconds later, the heavy wooden door bust open and Vix fluttered inside, the housekeeping fairy that owed his life to Nortrom and therefore had sworn himself to his service. Even without his magic, he proved to be a valuable asset - mostly in making beds and cleaning up, but also as a living sort of alert.

“Master Tyler, Sir! We cannot hold him back, he’s too--” Some sort of blue energy force burst the nervously fluttering Vix into the room and flattened him into Magina’s chest.

 

The Anti-Mage pulled his Manta blades off of his back and exchanged a glance with Nortrom. Magic of this level needed them to deal with it instead of the other, lesser mage slayers.

Outside, light had broken through the heavy clouds, bathing the dark and gloomy looking estate in gold entirely. In front of the gates stood a chariot pulled by a swarm of birds apparently made out of bright white energy.

The main door opened, magically, the seals on it not suited to hold a guest like him.

Light fell into the dark hall, radiating from the visitor. The sunbeams from outside simply shone through the ceiling as Kael all but floated inside, magic radiating from him, permeating the air void of it. He had not even prepared himself, did not need his orbs to defend himself.

So many mage slayers here and none of them would ever harm him. Eyes followed him when he came inside, but no one dared to make a move.

 

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, Kael stopped and looked up only to find himself facing the creature that called itself Viper.

“You, worm, tell your master to hurry up.”

“I’ll liquify your innards, elf.”

Venom dripped from Viper’s mouth, but none of it would touch this illustrious intruder. The netherdrake wouldn’t have to fly up the stairs, however, because Nortrom himself was already at the top of them.

 

And the headaches continued. Kael was beyond bold, to come to the Estate himself, but didn’t that just suit his terrible arrogance? 

Nortrom could feel more than see Magina about to ready himself to go and attack. His arm shot out in front of his newest employee’s chest, who had not had the pleasure of meeting Kael.

“He’s not an enemy. Stay your blade. Viper, move aside.”

 

That was not an enemy?

Magina found himself baffled at the command, stunned even. This elf was radiating magic, so powerful and ancient that it had his blood boil in an instant.

Manta was brimming in his hands, the blades lusting for blood imbued with mana.

It was questionable if this elf had blood at all and was not entirely consistent of the magical life force present in every spellcaster.

 

“Mr Tyler, explain thineself! Who is this?” The Anti-Mage called, only barely holding back.

 

Kael had watched the entire spectacle with some amusement, enjoyed the glares he was receiving, bathing in them, until Nortrom’s newest collectable spoke.

“Mr Tyler?” His deep voice held an audible cackle, “My, my, Silencer. Such a mundane last name for an elf like you.”

Kael floated up the stairs, ignoring the netherdrake and the clean shaven monkey that Nortrom was currently touching.

He reached him, then raised his hand but before he could touch the Silencer, a hand wrapped tightly around his wrist. It wasn’t the vice grip that hurt, but the way in which the touch drained from him. It elicited a small noise of pain from him, a little yelp that was most undignified.

Magina gripped harder.

“Keep thine hands from him or I will sever them from thine arms.”

 

Nortrom appreciated the intention behind Magina’s defensiveness, but he really could not abide anyone causing this particular elf pain. His hand shot out to take Magina’s arm, jerking it away from Kael.

“I said stay your blade, and your hand!” There was a motion and Nortrom put himself between Magina and Kael, to demonstrate he stood by what he said. And maybe because he felt somewhat protective of the Invoker, but that could be discussed at a later time.

“You have good instincts, but they are misplaced, Magina. This is not our enemy. He is not here to attack. And my name is not Tyler.”

 

“What is this then, Silencer? How doest thou allow such sorcery in thine Estate?”

The Anti-Mage’s question seemed to serve as a voice for some of the other mage slayers present. It was Viper who delivered an explanation.

“There’sss a pact, Anti-Mage. The Invoker and the Sssilencer have joined forcesss. Accepting the greater evil for the smaller good, I’d sssay.”

Magina stared at Nortrom, the elf he’d looked up to so far for his skill and his leadership qualities. He wasn’t so sure if he could still look up at him, not when he defended a monstrosity like this, a being of such magic that it nearly physically hurt to look at him.

The Invoker. Oh, he had heard about the immortal elf known by many names. Arsenal Magus they called him in some parts of the world, others referred to him as Garral the Archmage.

And all of these names had made Magina want to kill him more, rip him apart with the void his innate ability of destroying mana created.

Here he was, a radiant being, here was his chance, only a few feet away, but Nortrom of all people protected him.

With a glare in his superior’s direction, Magina blinked away.

Kael had let his tingling arm sink to the side. It wouldn’t do to show weakness now, but he was certainly in a bad mood now that his entrance had been ruined.

“I require a private audience. Lead me to your chambers.” His voice was cooler now when he addressed Nortrom.

 

“Certainly. It isn’t as if I could deny you an audience when you’re already here.” Nortrom gave Kael a long and vicious side-eye. They’d talked about him waltzing into the Tyler estate before, and here was the Invoker, heartily ignoring that conversation and every one like it. Instead, he was utterly ruining Nortrom’s reputation as a ward against magic. 

Nortrom thanked Viper for his patience and ordered Vix to prepare some tea. Only then did he lead Kael to his office and adjacent chambers, slamming the door into its heavy lock and twisting the key.


	2. Chapter 2

“You have an aptitude for choosing terrible timings, Invoker.”

 

“Time? Why would I care about such a thing?” Kael answered haughtily as he descended from his floating stance and landed with both feet on the ground.

With a flourish, he swept his cape back and walked over to the large globe standing in Nortrom’s office. Like the last time he had been here, the globe still reliably showed the mages the Tyler Estate kept track of. It was an impressive machinery and Kael ought to ask him where he got it from. Just that he never got around to asking when he was inside of this room stacked with fascinating gadgets the Silencer had collected.

 

“Though it has been quite some time since we’ve last had the pleasure.” Kael spoke and his tone was pointedly void of particular interest, as if it was just a comment he did not really care about. His finger met the globe’s surface and sent it swiveling. “You ought to tell me--”

The invoker’s question would go unspoken and unheard. Nortrom, usually an elf of careful composure, had crossed the room with three big strides and swept the radiant, arrogant mage off of his feet and into his arms, covering his perfect lips with his own. Kael liked to talk, liked to talk about himself, liked to have long discussions, but Nortrom preferred a different kind of company.

And it had been some time since he last saw his lover. Kael was light in his arms, as always, and pliantly soft everywhere. His hands had no calluses, his skin bore no scars. A perfectly radiant creature, who tasted like of the arcane.

 

The sudden assault did not come unbidden to Kael. In fact, he had been very much planning with this outcome ever since he’d arrived here. His immortality did not shield him from mortal desires and Nortrom certainly was one of them.

Instead of struggling, Kael’s slim form fit perfectly against the Silencer’s strong body. His slender legs came up to wrap around him, shapely thighs squeezing Nortrom’s trim waist between them for leverage. The Invoker’s arms wrapped around shoulders too broad, too muscular for the elven origin they had. The feeling of Nortrom’s powerful form alone would have been enough to convince him to come back time and time again for such pleasurable pastimes, but then there was the way they resonated with each other and that sealed the deal.

Like one of these melodic spells of ancient times, Nortrom fit him, harmonised with him, as if he had been made for him. Magic overflowing from Kael’s very soul and the void of magic in Nortrom, they fulfilled each other like pieces of a puzzle.

Passion took ahold of the kiss, leaving Kael’s physical form breathless in only seconds, his skin heated.

“And pleasure is what I came for. Oh, my dear Nortrom, and you are always so ready to provide it.” His hand came up, trembling ever so slightly as he brushed dark hair out of the lined face of his lover and behind his malformed ear.

 

Nortrom’s palms were eager and steadfast on his lover’s slim body. Kael was ageless, glorious, soft and supple in all the ways only a mage could be. Touching him, kissing him, tasting him, breathing him, it was all intoxicating. And he was ever so easy to persuade to giving in to his restless need that arose around this particular mage.

“I am furious with you,” he kissed a trail of blazing kisses over Kael’s neck, parting the silken robes to reveal supple skin, “For barging in here. I’ve told you not to do so. And yet, here you are, making a mockery of everything I am.”

How he hated how hard that notion made him. Nortrom didn’t know why Kael was so skilled at making him forget his principles, but he’d learned not to fight his impulses anymore. Not when giving in was so, so pleasurable.

 

Oh, and Kael indulged in the way the steadfast beliefs of this infamous elf crumbled under a fleeting touch, a tender kiss or a quiet moan.

To see such a powerful being worship on his knees if Kael wanted him to was not only stroking his enlarged ego, but also awoke urges in him other mortals usually failed to do.

Where Nortrom touched him, fire bloomed under Kael’s skin, heat channeling through his body and gathering in his nether regions.

Kael found himself placed down in the Silencer’s armchair, a large thing fit to hold a minotaur if need be, with a high backrest and armrest shaped like resting lions. A fitting seat for one like Kael.

 

Nortrom’s large hands, calloused, marred from war, and yet so gentle on him removed his clothing, but that wasn’t quick enough for Kael. He helped along with magic, had bindings slither from him, buckles open readily, revealing creamy pale and pristine skin.

Kael’s hands though, his hands that were as much of a blessing as they were a curse, beckoned Nortrom in, closer, ever closer until he could frame his face. Thumbs running along the heavy lines in tanned skin, the Invoker looked up at his lover. His voice was a mere whisper when he spoke next, his very nature, the magic in him, mirrored in the reverberations of his tone.

“I’ve  _ missed _ you.”

 

Nortrom would burn the world to hear Kael say such things. It was a frighteningly intense emotion, and one he usually had perfect control over, except when he was in the culprit’s company, such as right now. 

Before the armchair, Nortrom knelt like a servant as his face was caressed by the sun of his life. The blinding, burning sun that would scorch the heart out of him if he’d let it. It was a mad kind of love, but love all the same. Nortrom sighed, leaned into the touch, drank in the presence of Kael.

“And I have missed you. It has been five years since I saw you last.” His hands were not so stunned and idle, instead roaming Kael’s body only to find his thighs most tender and eager to part. 

 

Time had used to mean little to Kael, before he met this elf who was so decisively un-elven he had intrigued him from the first moment he’d laid eyes on him.   
Nortrom the Silencer, bred to be the greatest battle mage to ever live, and living up to his task though not by magic but the opposite of it.

Kael’s clothing continued to remove itself like a present that self-unwrapped. The many ribbons and layers exposed him lavishly like a beautiful flower, presenting his almost bare form like the rare pearl inside a clam.

His golden hair cascaded over collarbones that stuck out from milky skin, the tips of it just barely reaching the rosy buds on his chest.

Kael’s hands toyed with Nortrom’s dark, messy hair, adoring the way in which it mussed up quickly, becoming more of a bird’s nest than a proper hairdo.

Nothing about Nortrom was proper and elven and Kael liked it exactly that way.

 

He let him pet his thighs for a moment, even let him remove the lower part of his tunic and his boots, before he raised one long leg elegantly to prop his foot against Nortrom’s shoulder.

His toes curled, digging into the muscle there and Kael felt his desire spike.

But no, he would indulge in this properly, would not let impatience get the better of him.

Nortrom stopped and looked at him with question and his gaze was met by Kael who carried the smallest of smirks on his fine features.

 

Leaned back in the armchair, hands idle on the armrests, one foot up against Nortrom’s shoulder, the other on his thigh, Kael lazily regarded him for a moment, from his dark mop of hair to his bent knees.

“Your robes. Take them off.” He commanded playfully, “And  _ slowly _ .”

Kael knew exactly how to command Nortrom around. Not many people in this world could claim that kind of seductive power, but Kael was inherently brimming with it. Nortrom moved his head to the side to kiss Kael’s ankle, before moving to hold it with his hand as he got up. Only reluctantly, he let it slip from his grasp.

 

“I suppose it is in both of our best interest to obey you.” He chuckled, voice breathy and low as he stepped back, turned away. He knew which parts of him Kael enjoyed the most. But first, he made a slow round through his office to close the curtains of his large windows.

Only when they were truly shielded from any unwanted audience did Nortrom come to a halt in front of the armchair once again, his hands undoing the buttons that held together the vest and shirt he wore. Slowly, as requested, he revealed just a hint of his chest, but turned when the vest fell away and the shirt came loose. He flexed his shoulders, his back turned to Kael as he moved the fabric away, revealing long, hard muscle, criss-crossed by scars, partially covered by the ragged mane he called hair.

 

Another slow turn, and Kael could enjoy the view from the front as well. Nortrom’s deeply tanned skin, the muscled plains that strapped his body, the deep gouges of scar tissue and definition working in tandem to give him a look that could never be described as soft. His breeches hung loose and low on his hips now, the only thing holding them up a thin, silken sash.

At the beginning of the little show, Kael had been calling up Exort to flick into the nearby braziers to light them up for some soft orange light on Nortrom’s browned skin.

He’d gotten to exactly two, the third one forgotten and slowly in orbit around its master sprawled on the armchair.

All of Kael’s senses had honed in on the view he’d been offered.

Oh, Nortrom knew his vices well. He knew how Kael had a weakness for the broadness of his shoulders, the hard muscle on his back, the way his torso narrowed down impossibly into a slim waist. His scars only added to the picture, evoked the burning desire to trace and explore them, with fingers, lips, tongue.

Kael beheld him without shame, his white irises wandering over the landscape, the open history book that was Nortrom’s body. He liked his knowledge in all forms, but this one he would read with all of himself, again and again.

 

When he’d looked at every part of Nortrom bare to him, his gaze went up once more to meet his lover’s blue eyes and a languid little smile stretched the Invoker’s pale lips.

In an almost coquettish little motion, Kael flicked up his hand, palm facing the ceiling before he pulled his index finger towards himself. Magic followed his beckoning and imbued the silken sash around Nortrom’s waist with eager life to follow the motion. It unravelled itself on Kael’s command, leaving the breeches without any more reason to cling to Nortrom’s hips.

Before the Arsenal Magus’ eyes, they slid down to Nortrom’s knees, revealing that Nortrom was elven in some parts and entirely unelven in others. Very much to Kael’s liking, but nothing he hadn’t seen before.

 

Kael looked at him for a moment, before pointing his finger at the breeches that tugged themselves obediently further down Nortrom’s legs, basically asking him to step out of them. Now entirely in the nude, the Silencer stood there and Kael appreciated the pride in his stance, the way he held himself, entirely.

 

“Ahh.” The Invoker sighed as if he had just tasted a particularly enchanting sort of wine as he pushed himself forward and up to stand, before he closed the space between them, “You are such a sight to behold, my dear Nortrom.”

One of his hands came up to cup Nortrom’s cheek, the other landed flat on his chest, leaving a tingling sensation where it slowly trailed downward with intention.

Nortrom felt no shame about his body. Long gone was the doubt, the hatred he’d felt for himself at the mere idea that he wasn’t shaped just right. Long gone was the idea that he was a hideous creature. 

Nothing ugly could be so desired by a being like Kael. 

 

“You know how to settle my temper, Kael.” Nortrom’s hand wasn’t shy about pushing into the thin breeches his lover wore, settling on Kael’s pert behind, his palm fitting quite perfectly over one peachy cheek. Everything about Kael was soft and impossibly smooth, magical right down to his youthful body.

He leaned in to kiss him again, his other hand ready to hold Kael’s finely carved face still.

 

“Temper? What temper?” Kael teased gently, against his lover’s lips before he sealed them together again, allowing Nortrom the access to his body. His right hand stroked along the Silencer’s cock, fingers curling around the thickness of it, sliding further down until he could cup his balls too. A gentle squeeze to them had Nortrom shiver ever so slightly against them and Kael enjoyed the jolt of pleasure this kind of reaction out of him gave him.

As his tongue ran over Nortrom’s lower lip, coaxing his own out to toy with, Kael’s hand found Nortrom’s cock once more only to bring it up and stroke it against the smooth skin of his own hip.

“Though I would like to appreciate some of your temper once you’ve put this,” A gentle squeeze to the hardening flesh in his hand, “To good use.” Kael’s tone was as playful as his touches.

 

“Have I not been using it correctly until now?” Nortrom could be patient, and he could be restless. Right now, he leaned towards the latter, considering how long it had been since he last even held Kael.

The best way to make his lover pliant was to move him, bodily. Nortrom pressed against Kael, felt the slip of skin against his cock and groaned, low and guttural. He’d not be a silent partner today.

He’d groaned against Kael’s mouth before, now he worked his lips across his jaw and followed it up to Kael’s ear. 

“If you don’t get into my bed, I will have you on my desk.”


	3. Chapter 3

The threat in his voice had a pleasant shiver run down Kael’s back, but he did not let that distract him. When Nortrom mouthed at his ear, a very sensitive spot of his, Kael had to do something about the way the situation threatened to slip out of his control, his vision hazy with barely contained lust.

His grip on Nortrom’s cock tightened only a little, but enough to bring his lover to heel. Kael smirked at him ever so lightly when he had him turn and then walk backwards all the way into Nortrom’s adjacent bedchambers.

The door opened magically on Kael’s behalf and closed behind them much the same way. The one circling Exort shot into the lantern on Nortrom’s bedside table, illuminating the large bed in amiably dim light.

Hand on his cock, Kael led him all the way towards the bed.

 

“Sit down.” 

Nortrom did and Kael had the black tights still clinging to his legs peel off of him, the last fabric on him now gone.

Nude as he was, he came to stand before Nortrom, one hand reaching out to card through his hair.

“My beautiful Nortrom.”

 

No matter how many times Nortrom got to see this sight, he never tired of it. Kael was breathtaking, wonderful, a creature from beyond this world and the next. He was the epitome of beauty, and somehow, he had taken such deep fancy to Nortrom that he would call him his.

No temper in this world stood a chance against the seduction of Kael’s beauty. Least of all Nortrom’s.

“Yes...” he sat there, before this vision, and all he could hear was the thrum of his heart, how it pounded in his chest with desperate, eager love. 

His eyes could not close, but they did dim, trusting himself into the hands of a mage. How perfectly shameful of him.

 

How much he trusted him!

And this after years of battle, it was almost romantic. Kael could deeply appreciate the way in which Nortrom simply gave himself to him, his steeled body and mind so soft and mellow for his former arch enemy.

How they had battled, years ago, without remorse, with the intent to overcome and become, both of them hoping to achieve greater heights with the other slain at their feet.

How wrong they had been!

Kael’s thighs framed Nortrom’s as he took his seat on his lap, squeezing their bodies together as he entangled him in his arms, holding him flush against himself. His golden head leaned against Nortrom’s, he simply rested for a moment. The inferno inside of him calmed to a steadily burning flame and only then he would continue his ministrations, would place kisses along a strong jaw and mouth along those stubby little ears of his.

Though Kael was a being designed to receive worship, not to deal in it, he knew how to speak praise with all of his body.

 

There was good reason that Nortrom had laid to rest his murderous spite of the Invoker, and his heart reminded him that this was it. This being, this eternal beauty, not only of body but of mind, had seen fit to settle on him. Nortrom was not a humble soul. He was not even what most would call heroic, or particularly wise. He was a cunning, sharp and shrewd elf who took advantage of the world’s imperfections to further his own goals, disguising it nicely with the greater good.

And Kael appreciated him for all of his flaws, saw in him, perhaps an equal. There was no greater boost to his pride than that.

Nortrom’s arms settled around Kael’s waist, pressed their bodies together, his, hot as fire, Kael’s, always pleasantly cool.

 

Kael held him against him for a moment, then untangled them again so he could get up.

“Make yourself comfortable.” He said with a little pat to Nortrom’s thigh. As for Kael, he waited until his lover had arranged himself, then stood and got back on the bed.

When he was straddling Nortrom once more, he flicked his hand and shook it for a moment before he poured a small amount of glistening oil out of it onto his other hand. It dripped down from his fingers and landed on Nortrom’s flat abdomen, gathering in his belly button, but was ignored for the most part. Kael’s oily hand went to Nortrom’s cock, the other around himself in preparation.

Not that he needed much. Kael was inventive when it came to his pleasures and not seldomly made use of his magic for it.

But his own magic was nothing against the sensation of having Nortrom inside of him.

The thought of it made him hasty but Kael didn’t care anymore what that might look like to his lover.

Only when he had him positioned against him, pushing down on him slowly, haste left him again to savour the moment.

 

There was blood rushing in his ears, the familiar stretch combined with Nortrom’s unique talents always a fulminant mixture that easily propelled Kael to new heights.

He only allowed the moan to slip from him once he was fully seated, one slick hand placed on Nortrom’s abdomen was met by his other.

Kael met his eyes, his own clouded with pleasure.

“Would you tell me again why we ever decided to part?”

 

If Kael expected a fully present conversation from Nortrom, he was going about it the wrong way. With his cock buried in the elven incarnation of beauty, Nortrom was breath- and speechless. His face flushed a little, his mouth opened to make up for the lack of air in his lungs. 

“I...I don’t know. You wanted to study the, ah...” his words lost themselves in a desperate moan that he would be embarrassed of later. Nortrom’s hands were on the sheets, though he wished he could grip bruises into Kael’s pristine skin.

 

“The fae circles of the northern Nightsilver Woods.” Kael completed the sentence though he did sound breathless as he did so.

Even without any movement, being close to Nortrom like this stole his breath and drained away his rational thinking slowly.

Something he had not experienced with any other lover, so he liked to attribute it to Nortrom’s talents, but had not yet studied it more closely than that. As usual, he would hold out as long as possible, keep his mind working the way he wanted to for longer than usual. But when he raised himself up only to take Nortrom back into him moments later, he knew the effort was futile.

Kael moaned, his fingers curling on the Silencer’s chiseled form as he repeated the motion, again and again. Slowly at first, carefully, but then with abandon until magic set him ablaze, his orbs flaring up around him, all three reagents at once, bathing them in colourful light.

 

The subject of Kael’s interest passed Nortrom by, completely unheard. It didn’t matter what he’d come for, he’d stay for Nortrom and this. The pleasure swamping his body was unreal in the way that it devoured his mind, erased all worries and thoughts. All that mattered now was Kael, Kael’s touch, Kael’s voice, Kael’s presence that threatened to drown him.

And Nortrom wanted it to, because he’d never had a lover like this. A lover that devoured his attention, demanded his worship, took his callous nature and turned it into a man devout to his love.

Kael was capable of great magics, but this was, perhaps, his best spell yet.

Nortrom settled into a steady rhythm.

 

Kael’s long blonde hair fell into his face, strand by strand, the perfect golden mass of it slowly getting tangled as he rode his lover with grace and surprising strength for such a lithe body.

The illustrious Invoker fucked like he did most other things: absorbed by himself and his own pleasure. Kael would not stop impaling himself again and again until he finally reached the height of his pleasure that had his orbs flare and his golden hair bristle with magical fire, that had him moan and arch his back, hands clinging to Nortrom where they could. Only when he was satisfied, Kael could turn his attention to his lover. Had Nortrom found his release already or why was he staring so blissfully at him?

“You have already finished?” Because if he hadn’t, Kael had time for him now.

 

“No...” Nortrom had, in fact, been staring like a fool, but it was with good reason, wasn’t it? Kael was a vision of loveliness, a piece of his own, personal fantasies come to life. How could he not indulge in the view? Kael had ridden him with slow, luxurious movements, all alone in his own world that might only contain Nortrom’s cock, rather than the rest of him.

Nortrom couldn’t even be angry. Kael felt lovely around him, tight and hot while his skin outside was soft and cool to the touch. Nortrom wanted to touch him for the rest of his life.

“Far be it from me to interrupt you.”

 

Kael’s face, ever so slightly flushed from the physical exertion, lit up ever so slightly and his lips stretched into a tiny smirk.

“Of course. And you shall be rewarded for your patience.”

The next time he raised his hips and lowered them down to press their skin together once more, Kael’s eyes were focused on his lover entirely, his movement meant to please his partner, not himself.

He knew Nortrom admired everything about him, but he did have his preferences if asked to choose. His hair for example, Nortrom enjoyed his hair, the way it fell over his shoulder and bristled with energy when he wove more complicated spells.

Kael raised his hands to gather up the blonde mass and let it spill forward, over his shoulders, gaze still locked onto his lover, knowing smirk adorning his pale lips.

 

And then there was the particular interest Nortrom had in Kael’s hands, the softness of them, the long fingers and even the tremble Kael himself hated.

These hands he carded through the tips of his hair and then down his lean body, over his sides and hips, then to his thighs and back up, as if his own hands were those of another eager lover.

All the while, Kael continued with his movements, taking Nortrom’s cock into him again and again in a steady rhythm.

Kael know all of Nortrom’s weaknesses. He seemed to have studied them as eagerly as some new magics, or an ancient relic. The way he touched himself suggested that he had some innate knowledge about Nortrom’s late night fantasies, about every vision of Kael that had ever crossed Nortrom’s mind in his long, lonely nights. Kael had been away for so long, but he still filled every need, every which Nortrom could have. It was uncanny. It was a little unfair too, but Nortrom knew better than to claim Kael as his own, knew better than to try and chain Kael to his side.

 

His throat was dry as he stared up at Kael. His cock was almost a separate entity now, doing its own thing, progressing with the act of fucking Kael as Nortrom’s mind ground to a halt, trying to grasp the sheer amount and scale of his desire for this elf.

Nortrom’s hands idled on Kael’s knees, sliding over the cool skin, letting it soothe and entice him, using the position to anchor Kael on him.

His blue eyes were soft, far too soft for an elf in his position, of his reputation.

“You are all the reward I ever want.”

 

The praise was welcome and Kael deserved every little bit of it. He was splendid, not just in his magics, and anyone would do well to commend him for it. Nortrom’s devotion, however, the mad love of this elf he used to call an enemy, it warmed Kael from within.

In his long lifetime there had been very little to warm him like Nortrom did, but the fool didn’t need to know that, otherwise he’d probably melt beneath him.

Kael slid his hands over Nortrom’s on his thighs now, grasping his fingers, holding onto him.

 

“I am all the reward you will ever need.” Kael whispered. The possession in his own voice surprised him momentarily. Yes, Nortrom was his, that was a given, he did not need to underline it so ardently!

 

Nortrom wasn’t foolish enough to give Kael a sappy affirmation of that claim. There was some dignity left in his chest, after all. His hands were now trapped between soft, slim fingers and he allowed it, instead leaning his head back and closing his eyes. The sight was too glorious, he’d never come if he kept staring at Kael.

Now, he could concentrate on the feeling of being surrounded by Kael. It too was splendid and Nortrom thrust a little harder, a little deeper. He craved his own satisfaction as much as he craved Kael’s company. It had been five _ years. _

When his climax did finally hit him, he could only groan sharply and whisper his love confession against Kael’s chest where he buried his face.

 

Kael held him against himself then, cradled his head and the messy mane of hair, before he let his hands wander to smooth over shoulders and arms too physically powerful to belong to any normal elf.

But Nortrom wasn’t a normal elf.

Kael sunk into the sheets with him, a flick of his hand and magic took care of clean-up, just so they could lay next to each other and kiss once more, legs entangled and both of their hair a mess on the pillows. Like this, they could rest and be, at least for a sparse moment. What was one night in the face of an elven lifespan?

 

Kael would stay, and enjoy what belonged to him. The monkeys riding Nortrom's name for fame and glory could bear to be without him.


End file.
